


down the gloryhole

by Anonymous



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, Anonymous Sex, Bad Decisions, Glory Hole, M/M, Public Blow Jobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:15:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25952038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: The mechanical workings of a gloryhole don’t elude you.
Relationships: Dave's Bro | Beta Dirk Strider/John Egbert
Comments: 2
Kudos: 79
Collections: Anonymous





	down the gloryhole

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes you accidentally suck your best friend's brother's dick.

This isn't how you saw yourself giving your first blowjob.

You’re on your knees in a gross bar bathroom staring at a not-so-discreet hole carved in the stall partition. Something is going to pop out of there and, according to the graffiti surrounding it, it's gonna be a giant dick. But you already knew that. The mechanical workings of a gloryhole don’t elude you.

Jeez.

Anxiously, you fist the front of your cargo shorts and worry your lip.

This is Dave's fault. He's the one that _begged_ you to apply to colleges in Houston. He's the one that _begged_ you to move down here before the semester started. And he’s also the one that decided to go visit his internet boyfriend the week you were set to fly down.

(You're only very dubiously convinced that wasn't on purpose. No, actually. You're pretty sure his visit was carefully planned to get out of screaming over Ikea furniture and helping you unpack.)

The boyfriend is real, you think.

EB: i thought i was your internet boyfriend? :B  


TG: john  
TG: you couldnt handle me  
TG: even if you werent the straightest dude on earth  


That had spawned a sprawling, nonsensical ramble that ended in Dave accusing you of only ever seeing only one dick in your life. Your own. Which...isn't true! You've seen plenty of porn, thank you very much. Maybe you've never seen another one in person, but that doesn't mean anything.

(And never mind the fact you'd missed _another_ prime opportunity to tell Dave that you're definitely, one-thousand-percent bisexual. Sheesh. A guy says he’s straight once when he’s thirteen and suddenly it's the only truth.)

Anyway. It's totally Dave's fault that you fell into a tailspin of obsessing over seeing and touching a dick. You just want to rub it in his _stupid_ face that you have. Which is why you ended up googling gay bars in the area and, thusly, why you ended up here.

At a gloryhole.

This hadn't been the initial plan, but you heard some people talking in the bar about it, and now you're here, and now...

Now there’s someone on the other side.

Gulp.

Whoever it is, _knocks_ like a bona fide weirdo. You blink at the stall wall, shifting uncomfortably on your knees. Uh. What the fuck are you supposed to say? Hello? Come in?? Oh, no. Wait. You're not so sure you want _that_.

"Uhhh."

"Just checkin' to see if there was someone there," a deep, smooth voice says. It's followed by the sound of a zipper dragging. Straight to the point. "You ever done this before?"

"Yeah," you lie. "Plenty of times."

"Damn," he says, impressed, right before he spits.

Curiosity gets the better of you and you lean forward a little, eye-level with the gloryhole to see what's happening on the other side. The answer, you find, is that he's getting himself hard. His dick is already out and there's a hand working diligently. He's also got on these fingerless leather gloves, but that shouldn't surprise you. A lot of the guys in this bar are decked out head-to-toe in leather. You never really got the appeal, but those gloves are...they're kinda doing it for you, honestly. The guy’s got big hands, which have somehow distracted from his big dick.

Immediately you sit back up, mouth going dry and cheeks climbing to an inhuman degree of hot.

Oh, fuck. Is that thing even going to fit through the opening? Better question, is it going to fit in your mouth? You're a fucking idiot. You told him that you've done this "plenty of times" and now this guy is gonna be expecting something _good_ and, and, and...

"You ready for me?"

"Yeah," you squeak. He grunts in response.

There's movement on the other side of the stall and then he's pushing through and holy shit. You were right to be concerned about it fitting. It's a tight squeeze that has him groaning, a sound that claws a shiver through your entire body by sheer intensity. You have no fucking idea what this dude looks like, but he sounds hot. Like, really hot.

And even if he's not... who cares? He’s got a porno dick.

"..."

You don't know how he does it, but you can somehow hear his inquisitive silence. Right. Because you've been staring at his junk and not actually doing anything.

Before you can lose your nerve, you grab him at the base and stroke lightly, coaxing out another one of those throaty groans. This one wrecks you even more than the first because _you’re_ the cause of it and woah, that makes you feel. Well. Turned on, for starters.

It also makes you feel powerful and that's exciting in a whole new way.

You stroke him again, hand half-slick with the spit he's worked onto himself. That should probably gross you out, you think distantly. But then you promptly remember where you are and what you're doing and so the notion seems ridiculous.

On the third stroke, when you stop at his head to twist, the stall shakes. Looking up, you find his hand gripping the top ledge. You add “tall” to the mental image you’re cultivating.

"C'mon," he says lowly. "Stop bein' a tease."

That, shamefully, makes your dick jump.

"Sorry," you mumble, but you try not to sound too sincere. It's better he thinks you're a tease and not wildly out of your comfort zone.

You can do this. You've watched porn and you've gotten head before. If you just apply what you know and like...

You can do this.

You lean in and lick him, base to tip, fitting your lips around the head of his cock and sucking before pulling off with a wet pop. You give yourself a second to bask in the afterglow _of Wow! I just tasted my first dick!_ before diving back in doing it all over again.

His skin is warm and velvety on your tongue and you find you really like the texture of it, which isn't something you'd expected of yourself. You lap at him enthusiastically, completely disregarding your earlier plan of just doing what you like to be done to you. This is your playground now and you're having a great time with experimentation.

You lick every inch of him until he's dripping, and you can hear him breathing heavy. There's a thud against the stall, which you're assuming in his head hitting the partition. That doesn’t slow you down.

Right as you're tracing the ridge of his crown with your tongue, he grunts out, "Shit. You must seriously be into cock worship."

Admitting to him that you're just getting a handle on things doesn't feel that sexy. You sorta want him to think you’re sexy.

"Only if it's one worth worshiping."

Okay. You don't have any idea where that came from. You're never that smooth! But it makes him huff out an appreciative laugh and you're not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, so you get back to it. Except, this time, you switch it up, sucking the head of his cock between your lips and exploring with your tongue while it stays tucked in the warm heat of your mouth.

He's pressed close to the stall and with the plastic separation, he can't buck into you. But you can tell that he wants to. Really bad. Oh god. He totally wants to fuck your mouth and you're so insanely turned on right now, you think maybe you’d let him.

You're not too sure about gloryhole etiquette, but would it be inappropriate to crawl under the partition? After all, you don't really know what you're doing. You could let him have his way with you.

No. You need to see this through to the end. Just like this.

Slowly, you push down further, fitting more and more of him into your mouth until it triggers your gag reflex. Your throat spasms around him and you choke. For a moment, you’re embarrassed. Fuckin’ amateur hour. But he makes an animalistic noise that has your dick twitching violently in the confines of your shorts, pressing uncomfortably against your zipper.

Oh.

You back off a little, palming at yourself to relieve some pressure, and try it again.

You get just a little farther this time, but you still choke and can't bring yourself to give a damn.

He's _really_ into it, and _you’re_ really into him cursing and white-knuckling the top of the stall.

You pick up your pace, taking as much of him into your throat as you can, gagging until drool dribbles down your chin. You use your hand for what you can't fit, jerking him off while you bob your head in tandem. Fuck finesse! You're pretty sure this is the hottest thing you've ever done and, if the sounds coming from the other side of the partition are anything to go by, he agrees.

Plus, once you get going, you can't stop.

Pulling yourself out becomes an afterthought that never quite makes it to full-formation. The only thing you can do is continue to palm your aching hard-on while you suck his dick, sloppy and desperate. He’s giving a new slew of encouragement too.

_"Yeah, just like that."_

_"That's right. Choke on it."_

_"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon."_

Each one makes your eyes roll back.

Somehow, he ends up fucking your mouth anyway, even with the wall between you. All he has to do is pull his hips back and you're chasing him, leaning in closer to keep your mouth on him and—there it is.

He thrusts his hips back in and shoves his dick right back down your throat. It's almost painful, making your eyes water and your body tense.

It also almost makes you come, but you can look into that minor detail later.

You decide to stay right where you are, close enough that he can fuck your mouth, far enough away that he can't do too much damage to your esophagus. Every slam of his hips against the stall nearly shakes it from its hinges. You hope he's as sturdy as you imagine because, if not, he's going to have either a shattered pelvis or, at the very least, some serious bruising. Especially with how quick and forceful they're getting. Just a _bang, bang, bang, bang_ that rattles in your head, knocking all your screws loose.

Belatedly, you realize it's because he's about to come.

You probably have ample time to move away, but you don't. You tighten your mouth's suction on his cock and let him fill you up, attempting to swallow him as he comes.

And comes.

And comes.

It's salty and thick and takes horrible but you take every drop because a weird part of you wants to impress him.

(And, also maybe to tell Dave that not only do you _suck_ dick, but you also _swallow_.)

You've still got the taste of him on your tongue when you shove your hand down your pants and quickly get yourself off. You'll need to call a cab immediately and go home and shower and change and brush your teeth twenty times but, for now, you don't care. You come into your fist, still in your pants, and _you don’t care._

He pulls himself back through the gloryhole and, in your daze, you hear him zipping back up. You can see his shoes under the door, can see him shuffle around, can hear the click of the lock, and creaky swing of the door and...

What's good practice? Probably wait until he leaves before you do.

But you sorta want to see what he looks like. It's Schrödinger's Cock at this point. Either attached to someone you're attracted to or...not.

Fuck it. It's not like you're ever going to do this again, _or_ like you’ll ever show your face back at this bar after tonight.

You scramble to your feet, wiping your hand against the side of your shorts and yes, you know there's toilet paper right there, but you don't really feel like messing with it. You’re kinda running on a timeframe here.

The sink faucet turns on and you open the door and--

That's a broad back. The guy's ripped, all muscle beneath a tight white shirt, all the way down to his tapered hips and thick thighs squeezed in black denim. He's got blonde hair that flips out from under a fitted baseball cap. All of it seems to stir up a strange deja vu. You brush it off and continue to wait patiently for him to turn around and notice you standing there.

Currently, he’s busy splashing water on his face and it leads you to notice on the counter there are...shades? Not just any shades either, those dumb triangle ones that you've seen Dave's bro wear in pictures. Maybe you don’t know a lot about fashion, but those can’t be cool, right? You always figured he wore them due to some level of irony you could never hope to comprehend.

Huh. Weird.

Wait.

A sinking, forlorn feeling settles in your gut.

Oh. Oh shit.

He grabs the shades, putting them on before turning around and.

Yeah.

That's Dave's brother.

You just sucked off Dave's brother.

You just _enthusiastically_ sucked off Dave's brother.

Bro looks at you with an unreadable expression, though it mostly registers as aloof, as is the Strider way. He leans against the counter, crossing beefy arms over an unfairly large chest, and inclines his head in your direction. He looks like a vulture eyeing up some delicious roadkill.

You're the roadkill.

"Damn," he says, shaking his head in disbelief. "I told Dave you liked cock. Kid didn't believe me though."

This is hell, you decide.

But you can't really argue. Not when you're fairly certain you still have remnants of an orgasm at the corner of your mouth. You scrub your lips with the back of your hand just to be sure.

And then, slowly, you realize something horrifying.

He recognizes you. He knows who you are! Holy fuck-- did he _follow_ you in here? Oh god. You can't even...you can't even think about that right now. You push it far, far away into the back of your mind. Instantly, all your plans to boast to Dave about your experience vanish into thin air. That's off the table.

Nope. No. No. No.

"Dave can't find out," you blurt.

"About this time?" Bro asks. You tilt your head, confused, and he honest-to-god smirks like a B-rated movie villain. "Or the next?"

"What!" you squeak, mortified. Your face heats up as your stomach flips. Calm down, you tell yourself, you can handle this. You look him up and down and you _don’t_ think about how much you loved having his dick in your mouth.

You mean to tell him there's not going to be a next time but you’re not a very good liar.

Instead, you take a brazen step toward him, reaching out and hooking a finger through his belt loop. You have no idea what you're doing, but you know you wanna do it again. Whatever that entails. There's something thrilling about it, a new taste of adrenaline that pumps through your veins.

Your heart is in your throat and you swallow that too. Tastes like Bro.

"Dave can't find out," you repeat slowly. Deliberately.

He smiles, shark-like and dangerous. "Deal.”

Your name is John Egbert and you’re in a whole heap of trouble.


End file.
